


On Call

by thatsprivatebro



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bullying, Gen, also, not exactly "graphic" though, there is violence and some homophobic insults, uuuhm the louis/harry is really only mentioned once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-22 00:38:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsprivatebro/pseuds/thatsprivatebro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marcel is bullied at school and Harry puts a stop to it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Call

Harry isn't one of those popular kids, he says. He just has a lot of different friends. Just because he's mates with Nick from the school radio programme doesn't mean he can't be friends with Liam from the footie team or Louis, king theater snob.

Harrys twin brother Marcel, however, wasn't popular or even particularly well-liked. He wasn't picked on, by the general student population, no. He was generally accepted(and ignored) as that nerdy kid who'd help you out if you asked but kept to himself, always holed up in the stuffy library with his sack lunch and god-awful sweater vests. There was a handful of kids though, who teased him mercilessly.

"Oh Haz come on, its only teasing, they don't mean anything by it," he'd argue, when Harry would get wind that his brother had been shoved into a wall of lockers again or had his clothes nicked from the locker room during gym.  
  
"Teasing? Marcel, they stopped teasing you 2 years ago when they took your inhaler from you during p.e.! They probably wouldn't have given it back if coach hadn't seen you turning blue and made them!" Harry ran a hand through his sad excuse for a quiff frustratedly, causing it to fray and flop about even more. "I still don't understand why you won't just hang out with us during the day. If you were with us, they wouldn’t bother you at all."

"Harry it’s fine. I'm fine and they haven't actually hurt me so what's the big deal?" Marcel said with a sigh. "Besides it’s only a few months until we graduate and we'll be off to uni and they'll be stuck here forever, so. I just have to wait it out. I've made it this far, haven't I?" He pushed his glasses up with a finger before raising his brows and smiling at Harry, trying to convince him.  
  
Harry grimaced and sighed, “Alright...but I’ll be keeping an eye out.”  
  
~*~*~

A few weeks later finds Marcel beaten and bloodied at home in the restroom trying to clean the worst of it off before Harry got back from school. He'd had to tape his glasses on the bridge and he hoped his mother wouldn't get too mad, this would be the 6th time in nearly 4 years they'd have to order him a new pair. Sniffling slightly, he managed to wash off the blood around his nose, and was about to start on what had caked on his chin due to his now split lip, when Harry burst in the small room.   
  
"Marce where were--" he cut himself off as he took in his brother's face, the broken glasses, still reddened skin around his slightly swollen nose, and dried blood on his lip and chin, before asking quietly, "When did this happen?"

"Right before government...I skipped class and came home early...I-I'm sorry I didn't leave you the car...I just needed to get home." Marcel's voiced stuttered and wavered a bit, eyes wide as he realized he'd left his brother without a ride home.

"The car? Marce, I don't care about the car, I got Lou to give me a ride home.What I care about is you and which of those assholes did this to you." He sighed, and moved Marcel to sit on the closed toilet seat,   
"Here, let me finish cleaning you up." He grabbed a clean flannel and after wetting it with warm water, held his brother's face and gently started washing away the blood.   
“You gonna tell me who did this to you? Or why you didn't let me know? You gonna tell me why I us to come home worried sick when I didn't see you at school to see you hiding away in here?" When he didn't get an answer, he looked up to find Marcel blinking rapidly behind his thick glasses before his voice softened and he pulled him into a hug.  
  
“Please don't cry, I'm not mad at you," he says in response to Marcel's shuddering apology, "I could never be mad at you, you sweet boy."  
  
They stood there for a while, Marcel's face buried in Harry's neck, while Harry stroked up and down his brother's back trying to get his brother’s breathing back to normal before he placed a kiss to the crown of his head.  
  
"Come on, let's get you changed yeah? And then we can huddle up on the sofa under all the blankets and order take away for dinner."  
  
With a sniffle and a nod, Marcel smiled slightly adding, “Only if we get thai.”  
  
“Only if we get thai.” Harry agreed.

~*~*~

The next few weeks passed without much incident, just a few boys taking Marcel's books and playing keep away in the halls, once taking his lunch and vandalising his locker.

Marcel supposed that the teasing(he still refused to call it bullying) only lessened a bit because despite his protests, Harry had needled the name of the boys out of him and had told all his friends to keep an eye on Marcel if Harry himself wasn't around.

His good fortune(if he could call it that) had run out, it seemed, one day when he'd asked to be excused to use the restroom during class. Pushing the door open, he stopped in his tracks as he came face to face with Sean and Ian.

"Oi, look who it is! It's everyone’s favorite boy wizard!" Ian cackled. “What’s wrong, eh? You get lost on the way to the girls bathroom or summat?”  
  
“No, I didn’t get lost...” Marcel stated quietly as he turned around, intending to go straight back to class. His bladder could wait. Before he could get the door fully opened though, he was grabbed by the shoulder and pushed against the opposite wall, his head snapping back with the force of it.  
  
“Heard you told your faggot brother on us. Did that make you feel better, Marcie? That’s what he calls you, right?” Marcel flinched back, both from Sean’s harsh words and the smell of tobacco on his breath. “Answer me, _Marcie_.”  
  
“T-that’s not nice. You shouldn’t say that word.” Marcel stuttered.  
  
“Oh? Not nice, is it? Tell you what, Marcie. I saw something pretty interesting the other day while I was strolling around campus. Shall I share with the class?” He pressed on, not waiting for Marcel to reply, Ian’s chuckles egging him on,  
  
“I saw your faggot brother kissing that king faggot Louis near the goalposts on the footie field! So really, Marcie, you can’t blame me for calling your brother what he is. And that--is--a-- _faggot_.”  
  
He punctuates each of his last words with a harsh press of his finger to the center of Marcel’s chest, causing the boy’s lanky frame to hunch in on himself.  
  
“Stop it, s-stop saying that word. It’s rude.”  
  
“Y’know what?” Ian says, “I think little Marcie here is a faggot himself.”  
  
He pauses as Marcel gasps and blushes in shame before smirking nastily at him.  
  
“Girly, little Marcie, always running off to get big, bad Hazza to save him. Well, guess what, faggot? You brother isn’t here to help you now, and neither are his little friends to keep you away from us.” He reaches forward to grab Marcel’s glasses off his face and tosses them to the ground, stomping on them quickly.   
  
“Oops.”  
  
Sean pulls Marcel away from the wall, holding his arms behind his back as Ian pulls his arm back and Marcel only has the time to screw his eyes shut and cower before all the breath is knocked out of his body and he falls to the floor. Curled in on himself, tears start burning their way past his clenched lids as he receives a few kicks to his stomach before he hears the door open and a deep voice exclaim, “What the fuck!?”  
  
In the pause that followed, Marcel squinted and from his vantage point could blearily make out his brother’s knock-kneed, pigeon-toed self and breathed a small sigh of relief.  
  
“Oh, come to join the party, huh Hazza?” Ian sneered out.  
  
“Not really, mate. You’d best to step away from him.” Harry’s voice is so lowered, it’s nearly eery in quiet of the tiled room.  
  
“Or what, mate? You gonna teach us a lesson? Knock us about a bit, huh? Bit like we did to your faggot of a brother?” Ian is chest to chest with Harry now, his body tense and imposing, the air charged with electricity.  
  
Marcel sees Harry push his hair up and out of his face before replying, “Yeah. I’m going to do exactly that.”   
  
After that, the room is silent, save for each of their breaths and Marcel knows, _knows_ , that there may be two of these boys but Harry’s been boxing for a few years now, knows that Harry could easily take them both down with a few practiced moves, knows that they don’t stand a chance. Still, he doesn’t want to see his brother get hurt or expelled from school just for defending him.  
  
It seems that Ian and Sean have come to the same conclusion, everyone’s seen Harry training in the gym with their coach, as they both step back a bit with a grimace and a shrug, as if they’re doing him a favor.  
  
“Whatever, man. You and your pussy brother can fuck off, I was getting bored with him anyway. Let’s get out of here.” Ian knocks shoulders with Harry who stares them down as they make their way out of the restroom and the door slams behind them.

Marcel and Harry stare at eachother for a bit longer, Harry’s chest heaving and his brow set low while Marcel is still curled up clutching his stomach on the floor, his eyes wide with worry and wonder over these events before Harry rushes forward and drops to his knees at Marcel’s side.  
  
“Marce, I’m so sorry, are you okay?” He asks in a rush, carefully prodding at Marcel’s ribs and trying to pull him into an upright position.  
  
Marcel breathes slowly and carefully, knowing his ribs are going to be slightly bruised from this before wrapping his brother in a hug,   
“Jesus, Haz, I was so scared. Don’t ever do that again, promise me.”  
  
Rolling his eyes fondly, Harry shakes his head and places a kiss on Marcel’s forehead,  
  
“I’m not promising that, lamb. You’ll always be my little brother, and I’ll always be here to protect you, so get used to it, yeah?” He smirks at Marcel’s gasp.  
  
“Excuse me, Harry. That one minute gap does not make you older than me, we’ve been over this before.”  
  
“Uh-huh, and you can keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night. Let’s get out of here, yeah? Bunk off the rest of the day.”  
  
Marcel casts about for his glasses and his face falls when he sees them, shattered and broken in half on the ground,   
“Mum’s going to be so mad.” He says with a groan.  
  
“Nah, she won’t. Let’s go get your books and get some milkshakes, I saw a new banana and peanut butter one that I want to try.” Marcel wrinkles his nose at that as Harry pulls him to his feet after placing his broken glasses into his shirts front pocket and smoothing down his mussed hair.  
  
“I heard what they called you, by the way. Or, what they called us... I think it was amazing how you stood up to them, and told them not to say that. Any guy would be lucky to have you, y’know.”  
  
Marcel’s positive he’s never blushed so much in his life, and that includes the time he was sat next to Zayn Malik after Harry’d dragged him out to the cinema with his friends.  
  
“Well, you too-and Loui-um. Yeah. Thanks,” is all he can say in response as he wraps his arm around Harry’s waist and they make their way out of the restroom and down the hall to Marcel’s class, Harry’s cackle filling the empty hallway.  
  
“Love you, Marce.”  
  
“Love you too, Haz.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Oh man, I feel like this is kind of awful? But I literally can't think of anything else to do with it, so I'm posting it. Please let me know what you think!
> 
> This is also posted over at tumblr at thatsprivatebro.tumblr.com


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